


pretty in pink

by frizzoli (timequakes)



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 08:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timequakes/pseuds/frizzoli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's halloween, and the best costume either of them can think up is each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pretty in pink

“This is the most pink I have ever worn in my life,” Tobin says, scrunching up her nose, “and I hate it.”

Alex pinches the pink fabric of the shorts Tobin’s wearing. They were in her drawer an hour ago, and she has the distinct feeling that Tobin wishes they’d stayed there. But, as she’d conceded earlier, if they were gonna do this-- and they were always gonna do this-- it had to be done right. Neither of them are very partial to half-assing anything. No professional athlete is.

But the pink...it had almost been a deal breaker.

“I can’t see why,” Alex grins, tugging on the shorts before letting go, “they suit you so well, Tobs.”

Tobin pokes her in the sternum indignantly, her perky high ponytail swinging behind her and adding even more comedy to her frown. “Don’t sass me, Morgan.”

Alex laughs and takes a step into Tobin’s space, effectively trapping her against the kitchen counter and closing the space between them. Their height difference is just one of the things she loves so much about being with Tobin; like this, face to face, she can look down a little and see Tobin’s head tilted back to watch her, with a smirk and raised eyebrows that makes Alex feel like her head is suddenly filled with cotton.

“Or what?”

Tobin ‘hmms’, and it’s obvious she’s forgotten for a moment until Alex places her hands on her hips, just above the waistband of her shorts, and speaks again. 

“Don’t sass you, or what?”

“Or I’ll burn these shorts,” Tobin replies, grinning, “and everything else you own that’s pink.”

Alex laughs again for a moment before Tobin leans up and kisses her. “Everything?” she asks, smiling against Tobin’s lips. “Because I’m pretty sure somewhere close to 80% of my bras and underwear would be included in that.”

“That’s okay.”

They’re both still laughing when the doorbell rings and the night begins in a whirlwind of miniature costumes and a whirl of sugar.

-

Most people don’t really know who they are. It’s part of why they chose to live where they did-- it’s a young neighborhood, which means the kids that are there are all under probably 11 or 12-- and only their immediate neighbors have any inkling that they’re less than normal.

So their costumes don’t make that much sense to anyone but them- but it’s still funny, especially considering that they’ll do this again on the weekend and at the parties they go to everyone will get it. For now it’s enough that every time Tobin looks over and sees Alex’s socks and shin guards done like hers, she laughs. She also catches Alex grinning at her, which she knows has a lot to do with the pink pre-wrap headband and the stupid shorts.

Truth be told-- and it won’t be told, because she’s never going to admit it out loud-- she’d wear pink every day if Alex looked at her like that.

-

The little kids are so full of energy that it exhausts them. They move onto the front porch so that they don’t have to hear the doorbell all night (and to watch the colorful parade of kid costumes), but by 10:30, as the street starts to quiet, they still have two half-full plastic pumpkins of candy and hardly any motivation to get up and move inside where it’s warm.

Alex sighs and heaves herself out of her chair. When she stretches, Tobin’s jersey rides up a little and she realizes she’d prefer if Alex would never wear her own jersey again.

Not to mention Alex’s jersey smells like her, so Tobin really kind of wants to keep it. 

Together they make their way inside and get no further than the couch- Tobin flops down on one end and Alex on the other. As is usually the case, both of them kick their cleats off as soon as possible, and Alex rests her socked feet on Tobin’s lap.

“I’m not giving this jersey back,” Tobin says, sorting through the candy in her pumpkin and taking out all the SweetTarts. 

“I can’t let you do that,” Alex replies flippantly, “you’re supposed to trade jerseys with your favorite person on the team.”

Instead of taking the bait, Tobin just nods, hiding her grin. “Oh, true. I thought it was the one you were sleeping w-”  
Before she finishes her sentence Alex has chucked a handful of candy at her face. They dissolve into laughter, candy flying everywhere, and when they’re both gasping for breath and feeling the ache in their ribs there’s more candy in the cracks of the couch than in their pumpkins, which lie discarded on the floor.

“This sucks,” Tobin says after a moment, “I’d picked out all the SweetTarts.”

“Me, too,” Alex laughs. “I was gonna hide them somewhere. Surprise you later.”

“I was gonna wake up early and blend all the Reeses into a milkshake.”

Alex grins, crawling over to hover over Tobin where she’s sprawled on her end of the couch. “You can still do that. You should definitely still do that.” Tobin pokes her in the stomach and Alex squeaks. “Why would I share?”

“Because,” Alex’s voice is low and warm and dangerous; Tobin can feel herself starting to unravel even before their lips meet. “You love me.”

-

“I love you.”  


“I know.”  


“Are you gonna say it too, or what?”  


“You know I do, Tobs.”  


“Yeah, but...”  


“...but...”  


“I like it when you say it.”

The blush rising in her cheeks isn’t half as warm as Alex’s hand sliding across her stomach.

“That’s sappy.”  


“It’s true. You say it different.”  


“Don’t make fun of my accent.”  


“No, I mean, when you say it, I feel it.”

Fingers slide over her hip, over the dip of her lower back. There’s a lollipop digging into her shoulder. 

“Jeez, Heath. Good thing I have a sweet tooth.”

-

“I love you.”

Alex’s breath hits the shell of her ear. Her fingers are digging into Alex’s jersey-- her jersey-- as it rides up. The pink shorts are inching down her legs with Alex’s every deft tug.

“I love you,” Alex says it again. Tobin grins.

“I’m still burning the shorts.”


End file.
